let me tell you a story
by Someone aka Me
Summary: "they'd call it forbidden love but that's such a cliché" :: JamesNarcissa, vaguely AU


For Cassidy and her muse, from Harry and Clara

Also for GGE 2013, because I suck.

A bit (read _lot_) AU in that the age gap no longer exists and the Potters now run in high-society Pureblood circles. Oops?

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_let me tell you a story_

_girl meets boy_

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_seven_

He is pretty and he doesn't tell you you're stupid when you ask him to play pretend.

You call it love. Mother does not approve.

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_they'd call it forbidden love but that's such a cliché_

_._

_nine_

You don't play make believe anymore but he's still pretty, and he sits with you while the adults talk. He doesn't go running after Bella or Andi and you think it might be the first time a boy has ever seen you instead of them.

Mother still does not approve. She tells you to stay away from _that Potter boy_ but it isn't your fault you run in the same circles and he's much better company than anyone else your age.

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_but while the girl thinks love_

_the boy has other thoughts on his mind_

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You find him on the train but he's sitting with your _cousin._ You want to sit with him but you don't want to deal with _Sirius_ just as Bella and Andi don't want to deal with you. You sit with a pretty blonde boy who says he has Muggle relatives and so ends the conversation.

You won't admit to sulking, but you cannot deny that you are displeased.

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_forbidden soon becomes the milder term_

_._

_Gryffindor_. He just had to be a _Gryffindor_. Foolish, foolish pretty boy. You aren't supposed to pay him any mind, but you are entranced by the gleeful spark in his eye when he hears his house. Not just Gryffindor. Gryffindor because he _wanted_ to be.

_._

_let me tell you a story_

_boy meets girl_

_._

You see the way his eyes linger on the redheaded Gryffindor girl and it makes you furious, makes you burn with jealousy. You know he is not yours but you want him to be and it hurts that he has made himself hers instead, when she doesn't even want anything to do with him.

_._

_but this doesn't go quite the way it's supposed to either_

_._

She doesn't get it, that stupid little red head. She doesn't like him — loathes him, honestly. She thinks he's arrogant, but you know that he can be kind. She thinks he's a fool, but you know he's smarter than he pretends to be. She doesn't understand the value of his attentions, doesn't understand what you would do to be in her place.

She is a fool, and he will figure that out eventually.

Right?

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_and this boy is stubborn_

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_twelve_

His gaze still trails after that stupid Evans girl and you don't understand it. Why would he want a _Mudblood_ when he could have you?

But then, maybe he doesn't know he could have you. After all, you are not as foolish and bright-eyed as he is, and you don't wear your heart on your sleeve and in your eyes the way he does. You are subtle. Maybe that's your problem, but even if it is, you won't change it.

You are a Black, born to be subtle (something that cousin of yours doesn't seem to understand), and you won't change that. He'll come 'round.

.

_but this girl is stubborn too_

_._

_fourteen_

You're supposed to be looking at Lucius Malfoy. That's who your parents want you to be looking at. Lucius is handsome in an icy sort of way, tall and slim with a sharp sort of face and hair like an angel's.

But all you can think is that he is just a few inches too tall and his shoulders are too narrow and his hair is too light and his fingers are too long and… he's not James Potter.

.

_let me tell you a story_

_about a boy and some girls_

_._

He is sixteen and rumours keep flying. Rumours about the pretty boy who's in love with a pretty girl but isn't stupid enough to wait around forever. He dates indiscriminately, across house lines. He dates pretty girls with narrow hips and willing lips.

But he never once goes after you. Even as he seems to be working his way through the whole school, he never goes after you.

Then, one day, he does.

_._

_let me tell you a story_

_about a girl who thought she knew what she wanted_

_._

You still care too much, too deeply, dangerously.

You don't want to be just another girl in a long string of substitutions. But neither do you want him to slip through your fingers.

So when he asks you to Hogsmeade, you aren't quite sure what to say because it's a dangerous line you're walking but the word tumbles out your lips before you can really think it through (and that _never_ happens).

And the word is yes.

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_she thought this boy was special_

_._

The Three Broomsticks is too crowded and too chaotic and you sort of feel you can't breath but his thigh is pressed against yours and the warmth is heady and dizzying and…

And then he takes you outside and you're warm because there's Butterbeer flowing through your veins and when he pulls you into the snow and kisses you fiercely it all alights and you're on fire. His lips are faintly chapped but gentle and you burn up.

_._

_but this boy was still in love with someone else_

_._

You wind up exactly where you never wanted to be. Another girl in the line, another notch on James Potter's bedpost that he never really cared about. He smiles at you when he passes you in the hallways but that's all you'll ever be to him. It doesn't matter that you're haunted by the memory of his lips, haunted by the heady contrast of warm skin and cool snow. It doesn't matter that you can no longer hide the way your eyes linger on him. It doesn't matter. He doesn't care. He never really did.

_._

_and now this girl must move on_

_._

_seventeen_

Lucius doesn't love you. You don't love him, either. You might learn to like him, eventually. He's handsome and charming and smooth. He doesn't care that your eyes still trail after someone else, as long as you stay by his side.

It's not perfection, and it isn't what you want, but in the end, it'll do.


End file.
